Impact 14: of The Gaze

"Does it fit?!"

"Yes! It looks scary good actually... what about yours?" she asks, holding up the little pleated skirt. "It looks... small."

"I think I've grown?" I admit. "It fits fine at the waist, but it feels shorter than I remember? Ah! I almost forgot!"

I hop up and run into the bedroom, again earning hoots and laughs - which I enjoy, but I also wish Claire would let me change out of the little apron.

"My mom said you should have her old Sabers jersey!" I say holding it up for Claire, who smiles, but looks confused.

"Hockey?" she asks doubtfully.

"Hockey."

"What does this mean?"

"I think that she never wants to go to another hockey game in her life - dad and I were the only real fans in the family... but also maybe that it's your job to go to the games now? I think it's her way of saying welcome to the family?"

"I like your mother, she's a sly one," Claire says looking at the oversized jersey suspiciously. "Let me see you model it!"

Claire whistles and hootes as I untie the little bow and I am finally allowed to lift the little apron off. I twist and pose for her in my hose and heels before picking up the jersey. She is staring at my breasts so I cup and squeeze them while I mince and twist.

"You look like a calendar girl!" she says, a hungry look in her eyes. Again I feel a thrill of fear as I picture her putting me over her knee and spanking my ass.

Still, I keep up the show as I slip the jersey on. It fits like a small dress, just barely covering my ass, but covering it!

"It's very pretty with the stockings and heels! Do you wear it with a belt?"

"A toque," I tell her, but draw a plank stare. So I explain, "It's like a ski hat?"

"You know I've never even watched a hockey game on tv..."

"No part of me is surprised."

"Come!" she orders, patting the seat next to her. "Time to open the rest of your gifts!"

Handing me two wrapped gifts from her tote, one flat and square, the other, the cylinder. Both wrapped in white tissue paper.

"I had wanted to go lingerie shopping for you with my mother," she says, which is an image, so freighted and erotic, my body reacts with a surge of heat, making me blush.

"...but when I got the news about your father," Claire continues, "all my plans went out the window."

She pulls at the tote self consciously, freeing the mailing tube and something heavy. It's large and rectangular and gift wrapped with tissue paper and a ribbon. I sit back down next to her. She is holding them in her lap.

"These are from the fair," she explains with an apologetic shrug. "I got them from the Printed Matter, which is like two blocks from the gallery - coals to NewCastle," she muttered with an air of disappointment. "But they had a booth in Paris, so..."

"Stop it!" I tell her, kissing her and reaching for the gifts.

The flat one turns out to be a heavy book of elegant sociograms hand drawn by an artist named Mark Lombardi. The networks are of political scandals, bank frauds and real estate entanglements. They are drawn out in clean looping lines and ovals.

"This is beautiful Claire," I tell her. "I can't believe I haven't seen this before."

"I'm so glad! I was excited when I didn't see it on your shelves," she told me, looking pleased with herself. "Open the other!"

The tube is a long narrow print, at least five feet. It's a histomap, but one I've never seen...

"It's a Timeline of The Williamsburg Art Scene by Ward Shelley," she explains. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, Claire, these are wonderful," I tell her, marveling at the gifts. I feel so seen, so known. I'm not sure I've ever felt this taken care of, by anyone.

I'm starting to tear up again, and I hate that I am.

"You didn't have too... " I blubber. "...shouldn't have."

"You are so dear to me, Sarah," she gushes, wrapping me in her arms, petting my head and back.

"No one has ever given me anything like this before," I try and explain, wiping at the tears and the snot. "Given me something for who I am."

"I love you Sarah. I think about you all the time."

She holds me until I settle down, until the tears stop and I can take a long juddering breath. We separate, so she can see my face and show me hers. She's smiling.

"I have one more gift for my InfoPorn from Paris," she says with a sly smile, "but I didn't want to bring it to work, so it will have to wait till this weekend."

"It's too much," I gasp, afraid the tears will return.

"I love you with all my heart, Sarah," she whispers. "It will never be enough."

Part of me is still afraid to tell Claire about the charm, that perhaps I should wait, but looking at her I can't. I take a sip of my port and reach for the apron, pushing my hand into the little pocket, pulling it out for her.

"What's this?"

I hold it out, feeling so silly, I'm determined not to cry. Claire is looking at the little heart in confusion. I gesture for her to take it.

"It's not valuable... but it's old. It was my grandmother's?"

"It's beautiful Sarah, but-"

"Open it."

Her brows knit, but she pries at it with her thumbnail. I see it pop open in her palm, watch her face as she tries to understand.

"It's silly-"

"Look at her eye!"

I'm blushing furiously. Claire is looking at the little trinket with obvious delight.

"And your hair! Oh no, you saved me some, look how pretty!"

She's petting the crystal, smiling and cooing at the little swirl of my undyed hair as tenderly as a mother petting a faded bootie, remembering the baby. It's only when she looks up that she sees I'm crying again.

"Oh no! Don't cry, Sarah. I love it!"

"I know!" I wail.

I am shocked by the violence of my reaction - it's a monsoon of tears. I am wracked by loud sobs, but thankfully the sudden downpour doesn't last long. Claire calms me down with more kisses and pets, by holding me tight. And finally, as I take little gasps, and struggle to apologize, she announces the night is over.

"Noo, no, don't apologize. You have had such a terrible week and are doing so well, but your emotions are still raw, Sarah. It's past time for bed, that's all," she says warmly, "you're overheated and overtired."

She helps me up off the loveseat and guides me to the bathroom. My eyes look swollen and puffy in the mirror.

"I'm such a baby."

This earns me a soft "tch!" Claire starts the water and guides me into the shower to cool off with her. Very quickly we are giggling and squealing like school girls, my tears and self-pity all but forgotten.

It's under the cool spray, wrapped in her arms that I start explaining the lover's eyes to Claire, Prince George's forbidden love for Maria Anne Fitzherbert, how his father disapproved because she was a widow. But as soon as I do she hones in on Dr. Hendren and is immediately milking me for details.

I would make a terrible spy.

Shivering as she dries me off, I tell her everything. We are brushing our teeth by the time I tell her about masturbating with the door open. I don't tell her it was Darci who was being interviewed, but I tell her about flooding the chair, how intense and shocking it had been.

"Seriously!!!" she screams, spraying the mirror with toothpaste. "I thought you were so innocent!!!"

"I ammm!" I whine, but her look of incredulous disbelief makes me laugh until I start to choke and cough.

Sometimes I hear muffled thing's through the bathroom vent - my downstairs neighbors talking in their bathroom. Their conversations are reduced to a series of deep "wah wah waah" sounds, like the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons.

I wonder what they make of Claire and I, what we sound like to them.

Laying in bed and waiting for her to finish washing her face I try to imagine what it will be like to be her date at the wedding. I'm thinking of the weddings I went to with Danny, remembering how hard I'd tried to have fun - how much fun I'd had the moments I'd stolen away from him. Laughing with the bridesmaids, dancing with the brides.

It's not like I'd told myself 'girls don't count,' or anything, it's just I knew if Danny caught me dancing with another guy, even if it was the bride's grandfather, there might be a scene, maybe even a fight.

I think of how happy Claire was to see me in my green dress, how much pleasure she took from the looks I got, all the attention I received.

"I have missed this," Claire says as she turns out the light, and walks towards me. I admire her silhouette, the flair of her hips, their gentle roll as she crosses to the bed.

"Me too," I tell her. As she climbs into bed. She's still wearing the little heart, it dangles from her throat between us. The air in the room is still and hot. I'm no longer cool, but because of the humidity my skin is still damp and so is hers.

"Tell me about your visit with Rebekah," she says. Her face is relaxed, but she has been waiting for this, preparing herself, I'm sure of it. Why hadn't I been preparing for this moment? How is this catching me off guard? I knew she would ask about this, or should have.

"It was good..." I falter, not sure how to begin. Claire is touching me with damp cool hands. "So much happened - I think I was drugged, at the party... the night she and I-."

"Had sex," Claire says simply. Her mouth is close to mine, her breath smells of mint and port. "I thought you said you weren't drugged. She thinks you were?"

"No actually, she doesn't... and I didn't tell her I'd changed my mind - I was afraid it would make her feel bad - she spent a long time afraid I might have thought she took advantage of me."

"But you still don't?"

"No, I never felt that way, and don't now - especially now. I was in love with her... in my fucked up way-"

"Don't say that about her," she says, squeezing my ribs.

"Rebekah?"

"No, about you, your younger-self. I love her. I love all my Young Sarahs. The baby in the picture on your mothers shelf, the girl graduating high school. I don't want you to say she's fucked up."

I think of Claire looking at the family pictures with Kelly. If she had been a boyfriend my mother would have been the one standing with Claire, showing her the pictures of me, telling embarrassing stories about me as a child. Instead it was Kelly, showing her pictures of dad, telling stories about herself.

I smile and kiss Claire. It's funny how her affection for my younger-selves echoes my own happiness with my earlier-self, the girl who had left the apartment clean and tidy for me.

"OK. Not fucked up," I agree, smiling, "just confused."

This makes Claire smile and nod.

"...so, Rebekah told me what happened, in detail. Listening to her I realized how strange my memories from that night are. The more she told me, the more I felt certain I wasn't just drunk or somehow 'blocking' things out."

"Why?"

"For one, a LOT happened."

"What do you mean?"

"She walked Ali and me through the whole night. We didn't have sex once... we were at it for a long time - pretty much just me... you know."

"That's my girl..,"

"Shut up!"

"Ok, and for two?"

"For two, her description of the guys she found me with, the situation. All she had told me at the time was that they were "rough", but when she told Ali and me that they were "methy" and described their builds, how their teeth and hair and... tattoos... where exactly she found us."

"And?"

"And I remember them. And the more I thought about remembering them, the more I thought about how bizarre my memories are from that night - I've gotten drunk and blacked out bits and pieces of a night, but never anything like this. Not three hours of sex."

"Three hours?!"

"Maybe?" I grimace. "She wasn't entirely clear - the point is, I remember when I blacked out, exactly when I blacked out. She described the scene in the backyard when she found me, and I remember it. I was in the yard, I remember seeing those guys floating around, probably just before Rebekah found me. And then boom my memories just stop, like a curtain falling."

"Fuck, Sarah, that's really scary... I think Rebekah saved your life."

"I think so too"

"There's something else. I... I never told you, but things I found out from Ali- so Kwasi broke up with Darci?"

"Oh no! That's too bad..." she says reflexively. Then pulling a face she asks, "Is that too bad?"

"It's hard to know with those two, they break up a lot... or used to. He's really sad, but I'm really hoping he's done."

"Thats what Ali told you?"

"No, Kwasi told me that, sorry. Ali told me a lot... But the thing is - I kind of had a threesome with Darci and Kwasi once?"

"What?! When?!" Claire had sat up and was staring down at me in real shock. I cover my face in my hands.

"Three? Four years ago, almost? It was so fucked up. I mean... I've dreaded telling you about this."

"Why, what happened?"

"Oh God... so Darci and I used to be friends. I thought we were really close, or at least becoming close and she was really into Kwasi, but he wasn't into her..."

"I thought there was something strange between you two," Claire sits up, looking down on me, her expression concerned. "I assumed she was jealous of you and Kwasi..."

"Me too!"

"...Because he's in love with you."

"No, it's not-"

"He really is."

"Ugh," I heave, too exhausted by the idea to go on, but Claire squeezes me and I do.

"He really is," I admit, "or was. I don't know."

I think of him crying outside the funeral home, how heartbroken he sounded.

"The first time we met him - his dinner party - I thought you were introducing me to an old lover. It wasn't until we all went out, with him and Wes, and I saw the dynamic. You love him, but he - he is in love with you..."

I sit up. This is different than telling Claire stories about Dr. Hendren. Claire isn't mad, but she isn't teasing or giddy. She clearly takes this very seriously, wants to understand. And I very much want her to understand. I reach out my hand, take hers. The two of us, naked in the dark, sitting cross legged in the heat.

"Kwasi and I have a lot of history," I tell her. "None of it is romantic. Darci and I, on the other hand... Just like Rebekah, I never could have named it at the time, but I had a terrible crush on Darci. I worshiped her. She was the girl... the girl Dr. Hendren was interviewing, when-"

"I thought you were leaving something out."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I'm just so ashamed of this Claire," I explain. My voice is even and clear. I'm not blushing. I'm looking right into her eyes, she's waiting, ready and maybe braced for whatever I'm going to tell her. I'm braced too I realize.

"There was this night," I continue. "We all played a drinking game in a hotel. A bunch of us got drunk. But it ended up, Darci and Kwasi and me... cleaning up. I thought she wanted to be with me, she had been teasing me that I wouldn't be cheating on Danny if it was with another girl. I was so afraid of what she might do, but I wanted her to do it so bad Claire... and then all the sudden she was kissing me..."

I start to tear up at the memory and Claire reaches out and touches my cheek. She looks more heartbroken than I feel. I draw a fast breath and blink back the tears.

"She started to go down on me... I wanted her so bad, like nothing before. But she ended up laying on top of me, pinning me, while he fucked her from behind," I explain, surprised by how calm my voice sounds. "It was the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me and I let it happen. I should have pushed her off and gotten up... walked out, but instead... I did everything she wanted."

"With Kwasi?"

"No." I remembered her feeding me his semen from her mouth, how I'd swallowed it so I could kiss her. "I was afraid she was going to make me. I think I would have done it for her... God Claire... I hate telling you this. You can't know."

"Hush."

She's wiping my cheeks with her thumbs.

"In time I will tell you everything, Sarah. You will see that you are not alone, that my humiliations are as bad as yours, some are much worse. We go on."

I smiled and sniffed, a bit wonderstruck that I found Claire.

"For the longest time I thought Darci had used me to get Kwasi, but what Ali told me - it's so much more fucked up."

"That's already really fucked up, what would be more fucked up?"

"Evidently it's an open secret that Darci was incredibly jealous of me... academically and now professionally. Honestly, how sad is that?"

Claire looks so confused I burst out laughing.

"I mean you are a fucking badass," she says, laughing along, "but why is she hung up on that?"

"I don't know. I don't care. But it was so strange hearing about it. All these years I've felt so ashamed by what happened with Darci and Kwasi. Shamed by how she treated me, ashamed that I so misread the situation... and I DID misread the situation, to be sure, but not how I thought."

"What did you think?"

"That she just wanted Kwasi all along. That I was a means to him, an object to be stepped over."

"Fucked on."

"Touché - but it's worse than that. Listening to what Ali told me and then what Kwasi said about them, I feel like he was just something she thought could steal from me. She couldn't steal my grades. She couldn't steal my achievements, but him..."

"Poor Kwasi."

"I think he knows."

"Shit."

"Right?"

"I go away for two weeks!"

"I know!" I laugh, wiping at tears. But I'm not really crying. It's not that I'm cried out - I hated having to tell her such a terrible story, and feel like I should have cried more, but the fact is it doesn't feel terrible telling Claire. Looking at her, sitting up so straight, so beautiful. I reach out and touch the heart. It's hanging between her breasts, I press it into her skin.

She leans forward and kisses me, holding her lips against mine for a long time, and then pulls back a little. Just enough so we can see each other, the sides of our noses still touching.

"Is that all that happened with Rebekah?" she asked. "Just talking?"

"No," I tell her, biting my lip so I wouldn't smile. I was nervous to tell her, but thought I might laugh. Why is this funny? What if she's upset?

"I went up to Rebekah's room and watched her and Ali fuck."

"WHAT?!?"

"I did!" I say, covering my face. The look on her face was shock but also pure unadulterated delight.

"You're joking!!! OH MY GOD!! You're NOT joking!?!"

"It just happened..."

"I KNEW IT!!! My Young Sarah had adventures!" she crowed.

I think the reason I had smiled and laughed, the reason I hadn't thought about how to explain what had happened with Rebekah and Ali, was I knew Claire wouldn't be jealous. Was it the way she treated my interest in Helen? Her stories about the Norwegians? Danny's jealousy was so easily triggered. I had spent years worrying about it, tiptoeing around him, but with Claire I just... don't.

But that's not to say I'm off the hook. Claire wants to know EVERYTHING. So there in the dark, we lay back down on our sides. Facing each other, I tell her about what Rebekah did in the booth, Ali's reaction, following them up to Rebekah's room, watching them undress, and then the way Ali made Rebekah eat her out over and over, before finally going down on her.

"And you just watched?" Claire asks, her tone more admiration than disbelief.

"I mean, I touched myself... So no?" I tell her.

"You didn't want to do more?"

"I was so scared you would meet someone while you were away," I admit. "I imagined you meeting someone older, or prettier, or more... handsome - that I might lose you. It scared me. I didn't want to do anything that might hurt you."

"There is no one more beautiful than you Sarah, there is nothing you lack," she assures me, moving her lips close to mine. "I want you to do anything you want, but I'm glad you didn't have sex with Rebekah."